


A Shield Between The World And You

by StrangelySmitten (BotanyCameos)



Category: Doctor Strange (2016)
Genre: (Mixed with angsty thoughts & guilt etc.), Gen, Here have more angst, It could be viewed as teacher-student brotherly love, M/M, She's mostly mentioned, Soft Strordo budding love and feelings, TAO is in the tags but not present much, although in my mind it's Strordo falling in love..., somewhat XD;, though this one is actually fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 20:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10498998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BotanyCameos/pseuds/StrangelySmitten
Summary: Mordo watches Stephen in Kamar Taj and slowly comes to accept that he has feelings for him, and what this implies for the coming battle with Kaecilius.





	

Stephen was made of pain. Mordo could tell, from the first moment he'd seen him.

Pain and tears. Brittle and so fragile, so utterly broken.

But there was a strength to him as well, of heart and will, which fueled him to go on, even through such agony as his life must have become by now.

There was power in that. In pain and overwrought emotions. It fueled one's will and it could also feed the magic, make one powerful. Mordo knew. He knew well the sinuous paths that magic took at times.

Stephen looked to be in distress even in his sleep. Presently, he was in a deep slumber on the little cot in his room in Kamar Taj, but he was still cradling one of his hands in the other protectively, in a way that indicated they were hurting particularly badly tonight, possibly as a result of the grueling practice in the afternoon. Even as he slept, his hands shook faintly, and every so often, a murmur of pain would rise up to his throat, and escape like a secretive moan not quite fully formed. His face was flushed and beaded with sweat, restless even now.

Mordo stretched out his hand and ran the back of it along Stephen’s cheek and up to his forehead, testing the temperature of his fever. The man always pushed himself harder than the limits of his body, had done so since his first day in Kamar Taj, but it was one of the things Karl admired in him. It was also a reason for worry, and why he would sometimes come to Stephen's room by night, to secretly check on him.

There were times Mordo felt a distinct surge of guilt for what he'd done. He'd found Stephen in the streets and had immediately known what he was, what he could become. How alike they were in some ways, and especially, how useful the broken man could be for them. And he'd taken him in, for exactly that purpose.  
Stephen saw him as a savior, and strove to please him, maybe more than any of the other masters --or at least, he strove to displease him less. Would he still be so admiring if he knew the truth? How self-serving Mordo could be? The Baron ran his hand along his student’s fevered skin, wiping the sweat off his brow. Stephen made a small pained sound, but did not wake.

But it was all in the service of Kamar Taj, Mordo told himself. So it was not truly self-serving.

It still felt like a lie when he told himself that, though. The final result would be the same for Stephen, and a number of the other students. Canon fodder for a war they did not even know was coming. Mordo’s guilt flared higher. It was a feeling he often had to contend with, especially late at night when he was alone with his thoughts. Just how far was it justifiable to go in the defense of the world, and what degree of sacrificing other lives still remained within the boundaries of the Natural Law? Whatever it may be, the heart cared little for technicalities, or for excuses in the sake of a higher purpose. It was the heart, that guided his feet back to Stephen's side whenever sleep was hard to come by.

On days where optimism dared to rear its head, Mordo entertained foolish mad hopes that maybe Kaecilius would never decipher the stolen pages from the Book of Cagliostro.

Mordo himself knew them well, so he was aware of the litany of spells required to even understand the text on those pages. Almost no one at Kamar Taj was capable of even understanding a fraction of the contents of those books. Few were able to read any of it at all, which is why most didn’t even bother touching the Ancient One’s personal collection.

Maybe they'd be fortunate. Maybe Kaecilius would never understand the rituals and would die trying, be it soon or years from now, bitter and unfulfilled.

But Kaecilius had been his student once, and Mordo knew him far too well to believe that possible. The man was far too skilled a Sorcerer, and far too determined to give up. No, hope was forsaken in these dark times. It may be only a matter of time before Kaecilius deciphered the pages and brought ruin upon them all.

Stephen had immense potential, but no matter how hard they pushed him, how much they rushed his training, he would never be ready in time. He would be at a level perhaps close to that of a master, at best, but he would not reach his true potential in time. And he would be grievously wounded or most likely die in the coming battle, Mordo was sure.

He had known this from the first day, and yet he had still taken Stephen in. “Kamar Taj may need a man like him,” he'd told the Ancient One when she’d been merciful enough to spare Stephen and cast him out at first.

All along, the only thought in Mordo’s mind had been that what he was doing to Stephen was an evil and a cruelty, but that it was for a good cause. Every Sorcerer counted. Each one was one more shield between the enemy and the Ancient One, and Vishanti knew they needed as much help as they could, going against Dormammu.

The problem was, every day he spent near Stephen made it harder. He'd never counted on getting attached to the man, especially not to such a degree.

The thought of Stephen’s inevitable demise had gone from an inducer of general pangs of guilt, to something much worse, causing Mordo moments of acute despair and pushing him to escalate Stephen’s training to levels the man was utterly unprepared for and nearly unable to keep up with.  
Even the Ancient One, known for stranding people on mountainsides and using teaching techniques many considered outright cruel, had been surprised by the ruthlessness of his training of late.  
This afternoon alone, he’d nearly knocked Stephen out and had sent him crashing into the ground just to drive home the idea that he should at all times fight like his life depended on it. Because very soon, it _would_. And that had only been _part_ of their sparring session.

The thought of the imminent battle had become a terror for Mordo. For if he'd already feared for the Ancient One’s safety and wellbeing before, now he had two people to worry about, and one of them had almost no chance of survival whatsoever.

He had made a terrible error of strategy by taking in Stephen, but he found --with some mortification-- that he didn't regret it. Because be it in battle or in the streets, Stephen would have died anyway if he’d been left alone. Mordo was starting to realize that when the time came, he would simply have no choice but to protect them both.

Whispering softly an incantation so that Stephen wouldn't wake, Mordo ran his hands along the still slumbering student’s arms in a soothing manner, and gently pried his wrists apart. He sat down on the bed and carefully started to massage Stephen’s hands, one at a time, infusing magic into his fingers to numb away the pain a little, working the energy into the damaged nerves and the sore muscles so that his student could at least have some respite in sleep. The American, still asleep, let out a low groan of pain-turned-relief, throaty and almost erotic in nature.

Mordo’s eyebrows rose, but he smiled and continued the massage, a bit awed by how easily even a simple sound from Stephen felt like a balm for his weary soul. There was no turning back now. He could not stop himself from feeling love for Stephen anymore than he could stop the sun from rising in the mornings.

He would just have to become strong enough that he could protect both the Ancient One and this desperately persistent, at times infuriatingly endearing, protégé of his.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I seem to be obsessed by writing variations of Mordo angsting & monologuing in his mind while watching Stephen sleep. It's a whole new fic genre! XD lol  
> (Though this is a VERY different fic from my previous one.)
> 
> Also, I just had to screencap & make an edit of that scene from the movie.♥  
> The moment when Mordo steps forward and puts himself in the way, blocking Kaecilius' path to reach Stephen & TAO, is utterly wonderful, and is the very reason why i wrote this ficlet in the first place. That moment of him shielding them, with everything about his body language telling the enemies that they will have to go through him before they can touch the two people behind him, ahhhh~!♥


End file.
